An Escort
by SLovingLecter
Summary: Clarice is involved in a major drugs raid, the only problem is she is undercover as a prostitute, and who else is at the same hotel? Perhaps asking for a red-head for the night?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One.**

"Clair, you're up this one has asked for a red-head, medium height and build."

The woman with red hair appeared not to have heard the stout man as she had her eyes trained upon the elevator carefully. She was then nudged sharply in the side by the woman seated next to her, a friend apparently.

"Clarice! You're up girl!" Ardelia hissed into her ear, pushing her forth.

Clarice looked up in panic; they were undercover as 'Escorts' for wealthy men, waiting in a hotel lobby for the signal. They had been assured that they wouldn't have to get involved unless the men they were looking for asked for an escort; so far they hadn't and now their 'pimp' was walking towards Clarice.

"Oi new girl, I've called you twice, don't ignore me bitch! It's your turn to earn me some money now go!" The large greasy man's face reddened as he leered at her.

Clarice looked pleadingly at Delia who gave her a sympathetic look and turned said the guy standing over them.

"Hey, look it's her first night, she's nervous why not send Amelia?"

The pimp looked outraged as he clenched his fists.

"Because she's ginger not red and she's too short now this guy is rich, he'll pay good money so get your curvy ass upstairs or you're out!"

Clarice scowled at the man, her skin crawling as she felt his eyes all over her. '_Do you feel eyes moving over your body Clarice?.. I hardly see how you couldn't.'_ He was always with her, his voice an internal monologue; like some kind of twisted conscience.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the ridiculous dress she was wearing was close to riding up her thighs, and the heavy weight of her gun strapped there did not reassure her in her current situation.

She glanced over at Pearsall who was sat over the other side of the lobby; he only raised his eyebrows and nodded beckoning her to do as she was told.

She and Pearsall were no longer on friendly terms; she had half expected that the whole idea for the female agents to go undercover as prostitutes was his, just to get back at her.

Every male around was leering at her, she could feel the heat of their eyes upon her, it made her feel dirty. Even today the FBI was still extremely sexist and after a severe investigation by them as to Hannibal Lecter's escape and 'love notes' she had been doing nothing more than paper pushing.

The only reason she hadn't turned this down was because she was fed up with being in an office she wanted to get out and do something, even if that meant dressing like a whore.

Clarice stood and walked toward the elevator, the piece of paper the pimp had given her held the correct room number. On the surface she was the picture of calm, but inside her head she was using curses that would have shocked even Ardelia.

'_Stupid waste of space, if he thinks I'm gonna fuck some conceited rich boy 'cause he told me to, then he needs some sense knocked into him and I'll gladly be the one to do it. The arrogant asshole, So much for "you'll be in no danger Clarice, all you have to do is sit and look pretty.''_

As the lift opened she got out and made her way to room numbered 319, as the paper instructed. She had decided that she would just show the man her ID, explain the situation and make it clear she wasn't an escort but was in fact; an FBI agent undercover.

Clarice was now face to face with room number 319, she took a deep breath and knocked on the wood, a muffled enter coming from within.

'_Oh god please don't let him be lying naked waiting for me, please have mercy.' _Starling thought.

She opened the door and came face to face with… nothing. She then heard voices from the next room, two male voices. Clarice didn't dare proceed; she was now up against two men, what if they had some sick idea of a threesome in mind?

Clarice was just about to bolt from the room when 'sicko' No.1 came into view. He didn't appeal to the eyes, he was short, fat and bald, but he was wearing what looked like a very pricey suit, he was at least 70.

He saw her as he walked into the room and looked her over appreciatively.

"Martin, your entertainment for the evening has arrived." The man called as he walked past her, his hand brushing her backside deliberately... Clarice turned toward the male to give him a piece of her mind when a voice from behind her spoke.

"Thank you, good evening Edward."

Clarice froze, it felt like hundreds of emotions were coursing through her veins; fear, shock, excitement, exhilaration and terror. She barely noticed as 'Edward' walked out of the the suite; shutting the door softly behind him, it had been two years since she had heard that voice in person.

_**I decided to read over this and edit it… It most definitely needed it.**_

_**Regards,**_

_**Sll.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two.**

Millions of thoughts were cruising through her mind as that voice echoed through her head, as if looking at photos; her mind recalled every meeting they'd had. She felt every emotion all over again and almost imperceptibly shook her head, as though she were ridding herself of the images to focus on the present time.

Amongst her thoughts was one that terrified her, she thought he knew she was here, it was her and what she was doing. She also thought that if he didn't then he'd recognize her, if not from her body then her scent would definitely give her identity away.

Then like her previous memories had, another flashed before her in her mind's eye, one of Ardelia pouring a disgusting foreign perfume over her before they prepared to leave; she had justified her actions by saying;

"Clarice if we're going undercover as whores, we need to smell like them! I think they might get suspicious if you went in there smelling of that nice expensive perfume you use!"

She was snapped from her memory recall by warm, large hands gliding down her upper arms.  
She felt a warm body behind her and was fighting with herself and the urge to turn around and slap Dr Hannibal Lecter around his arrogant face.

She heard his hum of approval as he obviously took her appearance in from behind.

"Your friend did well, you are the correct size."

Clarice's skin was tingling and she wanted nothing more than to transfer the comfortable weight of her 45 from against her thigh to her hands. But as always, he was at an advantage.

"Hmm, you're quiet aren't you…? Good stay that way, you are not to speak a word through our entire encounter, understand? I do not want my evening ruined by whatever atrocious accent you have."

Suddenly everything clicked into place for Clarice, he had asked for a slim red–head, he had told her she was the right size and then forbade her to talk should she have an accent…

The bastard.

Warm hands were sliding over her stomach and nearing her thighs where her gun was barely hidden, as her heart pounded she acted impulsively and on instinct.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd remove your hands Dr Lecter."

Her southern twang was more pronounced than usual due to the circumstances; she had more pressing things to worry about, rather literally.

Said hands froze on her hips at her voice, after a few agonizing seconds Dr Lecter's grip tightened and he moved closer to her, Clarice could feel hot breath upon her neck, she could almost see him in her mind's eye, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to catch her original scent.

"Well, well…Clarice, Hello. Do tell me you haven't taken up the tedious profession of selling your… Delicious body, hmm?"

"No Dr Lecter I haven't, I'm here undercover, Delia's here too. We were waiting for our suspect to show up when I was forced to follow 'orders'… God am I gonna kill Pearsall when I getta' hold of him."

"Mhm… Are you wired Clarice?"

She snorted in a very un-ladylike manner; one that Dr Lecter wouldn't mind telling her sent a jolt straight to his groin.

"What under this outfit, you've got to be joking."

She suddenly felt the cool air hit her back and the warmth of his body leave her as he stepped away, clearly to scrutinize her rear in the tight red dress.

"Yes; I see what you mean." He voiced, Clarice blushed at the suggestive note in his tone.

"Well Agent Starling, are you planning on facing the door for the entirety of your arrest?"

"Yes." She mumbled, she knew she couldn't arrest him and send him to his death, just as she knew she couldn't face him, not without being transported back to that kitchen... Again she felt, rather than saw him step towards her.

"My, my, has my little Starling lost her bravado?"

Clarice spun on her heel and immediately realised her mistake, she was now so close to him that she could feel his breath on her face, she rather ridiculously noted that it smelt of wine.

Dr Lecter looked over her face and her body almost hungrily; Clarice brushed away the urge to cover herself with her arms over the ridiculous dress she was wearing, when his gaze lingered on her lips Clarice stepped back, and ended up against the door.

"Now, now Clarice is that any way to treat an old friend?"

Clarice noted that his voice was huskier and deeper than before, as she kept silent and tried turning the door handle behind her with no success. He raised an elegant eyebrow at her and said one word, one word that seemed to strike her core and sent a bolt of heat through her to pool in her stomach.

"Locked."

Dr Lecter moved closer to Clarice who was now searching the room with her eyes in desperation. For the second time that night Dr Lecter's hands glided up her arms to her shoulders, neck and jaw where his thumb was gliding along her jaw line.

"Doctor, please…"

Clarice whispered, her heart was pounding and she was terrified of herself, and her reactions to him.

He leant forward and brushed her flushed cheek with his lips, but instead of backing off he inhaled the scent of her hair and reveled in the escalated beating of her heart, he could hear and see it in her neck, he leant forward and kissed her pulse point, running his tongue over it to feel her pulse through his mouth, it was erratic and he was in heaven.

"Please… stop." She whispered breathlessly.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am fully aware this situation is highly AU as we know Dr Lecter probably wouldn't seek a 'lady-of-the-night' for his more male urges, but alas he is as I said a man and we have no idea whether he would or wouldn't, he probably sees it as highly distasteful and common but hey, I liked this idea.**

**Chapter Three.**

The change in his demeanor was sudden and extreme in comparison to his manner mere moments before. Dr Lecter backed off immediately, she saw him visibly take a breath before returning to the calm controlled gentleman many knew him to be.

"Would you care for a drink Clarice?" he asked gesturing to the open wine bottle.

"No thank you Doctor, what I'd care for is a key outta here."

Dr Lecter chuckled as he straightened from picking up his wine, Clarice decided she liked the sound, it was velvet yet metallic. It could send shivers up your spine in two different ways; she had never felt fear where he was concerned, and the other emotion she preferred not to think about.

"I am afraid I can't help you with that Clarice, you see, I couldn't have you running off to your _friends_ downstairs to have them then descend upon me en masse. My, wouldn't they be _**ecstatic**_, a simple drugs bust produces the FBI's centre piece by mere coincidence."

Clarice couldn't help but snort in amusement as she pictured the look on Pearsall's face if she waltzed into the lobby with Dr Lecter in tow.

"If I don't go back downstairs they'll come looking for me." Clarice said knowing that statement was not true, the only one who would wonder where she'd be was Ardelia and she wouldn't go looking for her without Pearsall's permission.

"Hmm, I suppose you are right." He said with a sudden air of indifference. He went over to the door and unlocked it with the key he had withdrawn from his pocket, Clarice stood there extremely confused, annoyance crawled up her spine as she glared at his back. Dr Lecter only chuckled at her again before he bid her goodnight and walked back into the other room.

Clarice was still stood there in shock, until she shook her head and walked to the door, just as she reached for the handle, she froze.

Why wasn't she walking out the door? Her mind was telling her to move but her body wasn't listening.

Damn him he knew exactly how to pique her curiosity and stop her from leaving when she had the chance and open opportunity to, and so naturally instead of walking out the now unlocked door she followed him; but not without huffing in annoyance at herself.

Upon following him into the next room her heart rate sped up, it was his bedroom, Clarice swallowed convulsively at the images the king size bed in the centre of the room conjured.

She turned around to find the man her mind's eye was creating scenarios of; spectacularly naked, sat out on the balcony in an armchair still fully clothed. Clarice stubbornly ignored the slither of disappointment this bought on.

Two questions were fighting to be released from Clarice's mind; she decided to go for the second one.

"What are you doing in D.C Dr Lecter?"

He looked up at her with amusement dancing in his maroon eyes; he knew exactly which question she was burning to ask.

"To see you of course Clarice, but I was at a loss when I discovered you had moved house."

Clarice nodded meekly.

"I left the duplex, its government property. As much as I love Ardelia I couldn't stay there."

"Quitting the FBI, Special Agent Starling?"

Clarice shut her eyes and nodded.

"Hmm, go on Clarice ask me, ask me the question that is burning in your throat and lighting your eyes with curiosity." His metallic tones seemed to alight every nerve in her body.

Clarice turned to gaze down at him as her back leant against the cool balcony bars, she opened her mouth to ask said question but stopped, something registered in her eyes and Dr Lecter could almost hear the 'click' as her thought fell into place.

"You stopped…" Clarice said in wonder only now realising the words she had used earlier in fear of losing control of herself. Dr Lecter stayed silent and regarded her with interest.

"You stopped when I asked you to, why?" Clarice asked partly afraid of the answer.

"Clarice… Do tell me your memory is not that bad hmm? I do hate to repeat myself Agent Starling, it becomes tedious."

Her eyes flashed in recognition of the game he was playing, a memory resurfaced.

"_Tedious, very tedious."_

She smiled slightly, and then another followed unbidden.

"_Would you ever say to me, stop, if you loved me you'd stop?"_

Clarice's mouth formed a small 'O' of comprehension.

"But I never… I didn't –"

Dr Lecter decided to save her the embarrassment.

"You told me to stop Clarice, we both know what you didn't say out loud you were thinking, that is enough… for now."

Clarice remained silent as she narrowed her eyes at him; Dr Lecter merely regarded her before leaning back in his chair preparing for the oncoming storm. As Clarice looked at him smirking, she realised that he expected her to shout at him, call him a pervert and possibly even physically assault him, she decided to surprise him.

Clarice saw his finger twitch subtly across his chin when she moved towards him.

She was stood next to him when she lifted her leg and sat straddling his lap. Dr Lecter did nothing but lower his hands to rest on either side of her on the chairs armrests, he quirked an eyebrow at her as she looked at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm presuming if you clicked on this Fanfiction, then you are aware it is rated M, but just in case; I deliver you a smut warning.**

**Chapter Four.**

Clarice, however much she pretended was not totally oblivious to the effect she had on him, he had after all come half way around the world to watch her run. As Clarice looked at the man before her, her mind went over everything he had done for her.

He had sacrificed more than any man had for her, she trusted him and the only other men she had trusted were now both dead. This one however was not; he was very much alive and real, he was all heat and touch, hard yet soft, a man and a monster.

The spicy aftershave he was wearing was overriding her senses; it was all she could do not to lean forward and bury herself in his warm skin to inhale it. Clarice nearly lost her courage then and there, until she saw the curiosity evident in Dr Lecter's eyes.

Clarice gathered all her courage and laid her hands gently upon his shoulders, she felt him twitch under her hands slightly and the muscle tense under her fingers. She simply sat there lightly stroking his shoulders reveling in the heat she could feel through his elegant silk shirt. She started adding more pressure to her strokes, massaging his shoulders. She wasn't doing this to relax him per say, it was more to relax herself and prepare for what she was about to do.

Unbeknownst to Clarice, Dr Lecter was gripping onto the last threads of his control. He was outwardly relaxed; but having Clarice in this proximity to him, sprawled in his lap was destroying the self control he so prided himself on having.

When her soft hands had tentatively started to massage his shoulders he had _almost_ sighed in satisfaction, before he had caught himself not wanting to scare her.

Both watched the other carefully as Clarice leant forward to whisper in his ear; Dr Lecter was assailed with her scent as she leant closer to him, her fiery hair brushing his neck.

"I do believe sir that tonight, you requested my service."

His eyes flashed red as her lips brushed his neck.

"_Clarice_."

He said to her in warning, he knew she was playing with him, somehow trying to get back at him for her earlier discovery of who he would be imagining had a prostitute been sent to him, to disarm her he decided to play along for now. If she thought he truly believed she wanted to lay with him tonight, she would freeze up at some point terrified realising her error.

Clarice almost jumped out of her skin when his hands moved from the armrest to each bare, smooth, creamy thigh resting astride him. He had started moving his thumbs over her skin softly as she regained control, meaning she was trying to ignore the feel of his calloused thumbs grazing across her now goose pimpled skin. She leant down a fraction to place a kiss just behind his ear; she was alternating from kissing, sucking and biting his neck whilst making sure not to miss an inch of skin.

Dr Lecter closed his eyes for a moment as his breathing increased. When her teeth grazed his jugular vein his grip on her thighs tightened, before he lowered his head to her neck. He smirked when she froze; he inhaled deeply as he nuzzled her neck before he lifted her chin and planted a tender kiss just above her collarbone.

What had started as Clarice's game now became a battle of power and wills between the two.

A growl escaped his throat as Clarice parted his now unbuttoned shirt and ran her hands over his bare chest, purposely grazing his nipples and playing with the salt and pepper hair scattered there.

Dr Lecter's hands moved round as he grabbed her behind and pulled her closer, pressing himself intimately against her, he was rewarded with a soft moan from her.

She was nibbling his earlobe, drawing a groan from him as she undulated against the straining tent in his pants, she lost the feeling of control she had however when his large hands cupped her still dress clad breasts and squeezed gently. He pinched then stroked his thumb over the pebbled nipples visible through the thin material of her red dress, producing a small moue of appreciation from her. She pulled back slightly to meet his lust filled gaze and for the just second time in over a decade he brought his lips to hers and kissed her softly, it was an imitation of the kiss from two years ago whilst she was trapped in Paul Krendler's fridge. The most notable difference on Dr Lecter's part this time was that she responded to him, passionately. At her acceptance of the kiss and his encounter of her smooth warm tongue he moaned and deepened the kiss holding a fist full of her red hair.

"Clarice…"

He said softly as they broke away.

Clarice looked at him with heat in her eyes, she had somehow lost complete control of her game and it had become very real, but she wanted this she could feel it, it felt right, like she belonged here with him.

"Now would be the time to tell me to stop Clarice, there will be no going back after this no trying to gather up the lasts shreds of your morality, no denial. You will forever be _**mine**_ Clarice."

She considered his words as she regarded him; he sucked in a gasp as she again undulated against him gently.

"Good, I hope so for your sake because; regardless of my comment earlier I am not one of your look-alike prostitutes."

Hannibal only smirked at her and winked before pulling her down toward him for another in a long line of passionate kisses.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five.**

Clarice Starling stood looking into the bathroom mirror contemplating the change she seemed to have undergone the previous night.

_You're stood in Hannibal Lecter's bathroom Clarice, looking thoroughly shagged._

She realised her mental statement was true as she looked at herself, her hair was completely messed up, her cheeks flushed, her eyes were sparkling and her lips swollen. Not to mention the interesting variety of hickeys littering her body. He had quite obviously enjoyed marking her as his.

For the first time in years she felt… happy, she smiled at herself in the mirror before looking around the room for a toothbrush.

She couldn't find one in immediate reach and didn't want to go looking through cupboards, so she stepped into the bedroom.

Hannibal Lecter was leaning against the headboard with a thin white sheet draped over his abdomen and thighs, warmth spread through her as his gaze wandered over her bare body. She started walking toward him and the bed when he held up his hand, then he motioned a circle with his finger telling her to turn around.

Clarice did as she was bid knowing he was admiring his handiwork on her shoulder, neck, hip, lower back and thighs.

When she faced him again he gestured for her to move over to the bed, again she followed his directions and lay on the bed next to him.

"Good Morning, Clarice." He said as he stroked her hair and she laid her head on his chest.

"Good morning, Hannibal."

Clarice smiled at being able to say his given name filled with the emotions she now accepted she felt for him, she looked up at him realising he had stopped stroking her hair.

He was looking at her with such intensity it took her breath away, his usual mask had faded and in its place he was showing her each raw emotion he felt. Clarice's blue eyes found his maroon, something passed between them, neither sure what it was exactly. He merely kissed her head and pulled her towards him.

"Are you hungry, Clarice?" he asked her resuming the stroking of her hair.

"Mhm, starving." She kissed his chest lightly.

"I shall order room service and then join you in the shower."

Clarice raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you trying to imply that I smell repugnant, Dr Lecter?"

He smirked at her.

"I do believe that if I was, I'd be referring to that dreadful perfume you seem to be doused in AgentSstarling."

Clarice was about to retort when she remembered the way her eyes had watered when Delia sprayed the dreadful stuff, so she merely shrugged, nodded and kissed him softly before making her way back to the bare bathroom.

For a small moment just as she was getting in the shower Clarice was struck with an alarming thought.

'_What if he's making a run for it? He has gotten what he wanted, after waiting all that time maybe it didn't live up to his fantasies…'_

She tried throwing the thought away as quickly as it had appeared in her mind, but still it lingered there, taunting her. That was until he stepped into the shower with her and wrapped his strong arms about her midsection.

Clarice was in heaven, he was practically worshipping her. Apparently last night was merely the beginning, he had soaped her body, leaving nothing untouched, and then washed her hair for her, no one had done that for her since her father, and that was in a very different way.

And now she was sat in bed with a gorgeous smelling cup of coffee, cream melting atop it and a tray filled with what appeared to be chocolate pancakes. When he had placed the tray in front of her she had looked over at him incredulously, he had merely raised an eyebrow and taken a sip of his coffee whilst he watched her.

"Are you going to eat that Clarice or sit staring at me? Whilst I appreciate it, I have taken great pains to order chocolate pancakes in a 5 star hotel." He grimaced as he looked down at her plate. "I imagine I am a source of great amusement in the hotel kitchen right now. Apparently it would have been here earlier but they had to send someone out to buy the… necessary items."

She had expected caviar or 14 different cheese selections on crackers or dry bread, not chocolate pancakes; she was pleasantly surprised at his consideration for her.

She was still in partial shock but at his expectant look she cut a small piece off, dipped it in the chocolate sauce on the side and put it in her mouth, chewing blissfully.

She moaned in appreciation and looked over to Hannibal, who was watching her with open amusement, she frowned at him.

"What?" She asked after swallowing her bite and licking chocolate from her lips.

"It would appear I have competition for your affections, alas I am afraid I cannot compete, men all around the world suffer from neglect due to their partners love for a bar full of cocoa paste, cocoa butter, and sugar."

She looked at him, smiling.

"Neglect huh?"

He put his most serious and honest expression on as he spoke again.

"Oh yes Clarice, it's a serious medical problem, I even had a patient once whose severe masochistic tendencies stemmed from his wife's belief that chocolate was better than sex, as a result refused to indulge him as she would rather indulge her taste buds."

"Isn't telling me that a breach of patient confidentiality doctor?" Clarice asked

"I won't tell if you don't." he whispered and winked at her.

Clarice snorted with laughter, as she looked at him, then at the pancakes, then back at him and a different type of hunger heated her belly.

"Oh I don't think you will need to worry about that Dr Hannibal Lecter, in this case the chocolate is definitely not better than the sex."

He quirked an eyebrow at her brazen comment, Clarice was definitely coming out of her shell and it was beautiful for him to be privy to; he had been waiting a long time for this moment and didn't worry about indulging himself in observing her change.

After they had finished a second breakfast; the first having gone cold due to Clarice's desire to profess her belief in her own previous statement, Hannibal had dressed whilst Clarice was refusing to put the dress from last night back on.

"Clarice you cannot walk out of here naked, I will give you my jacket and drive you back home, I will be right with you."

She stubbornly crossed her arms over her bare chest pushing her breasts up in quite an enticing way without realising it.

"Exactly, if I walk out of this hotel dressed like that… Even with your jacket they will think I spent the night with you!"

Hannibal tilted his head at her and cleared his throat, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Then they would be correct wouldn't they Clarice, so what's the problem?"

She growled at him slightly.

"That's not the point and you know it, I'd rather go out there naked than in that- that thing!"

"Ah, now that I am afraid I cannot allow."

He bent and retrieved the dress and her underwear that had been thrown across the room and passed them to her, she spluttered at him.

"I won't do it." She looked at him challengingly with a stubborn glint in her eye.

"Oh believe me you will Special Agent Starling, even if I have to dress you myself."

Still she refused to move.

"I will just wait here until Ardelia comes to find me, or call her and ask her to bring me some clothes."

He rolled his eyes at her whilst getting slightly agitated, yes she was beautiful with her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing, but she was stubborn to the point of distraction and he had a schedule to keep to.

"And give her what explanation Clarice? As far as she is concerned you are at home tucked up in your bed fast asleep, not in my bed naked refusing to dress. Now under any other circumstances Clarice, I wouldn't hesitate to agree with you, but I cannot stay in this hotel with the FBI having stormed it last night."

Clarice grumbled slightly, recognizing the need to get dressed quickly, she just didn't want to wear THAT dress again, especially in broad daylight whilst all the other women here were walking around in Gucci.

She looked up at Hannibal again the stubborn glint in her eye wavering but not disappearing.

Outside room, number 319, a bell boy carrying bags to room 324 started slightly at the female shriek that came from inside it, and then he smirked slightly and carried on walking. That room had been the source of most of the gossip between the staff; a well off gentleman had booked the room alone and now shared it with what they knew to be one of the escorts that were downstairs looking for business last night.

But this was different; they had ordered two breakfasts the first being Chocolate Pancakes, a rather odd request at a five star hotel. The second breakfast being croissants, which was a bit more of a normal request, neither had yet emerged from their room and the hotel staff had never heard of a classy gentleman like Dr Martin Harolds paying for a night-time 'service' and then buying her breakfast in the morning.

She must have been a good lay, at least that's what the bell boy thought... he wondered how much she had cost, could he afford her for an evening?

With that in mind the bell boy worked extra hard at sucking up to the current customers, even showing them how to flush the toilet, hoping for a big tip he could put towards his very own night-time service.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six.**

Clarice, who was fully aware that she was pouting like a petulant child, was now dressed in what Ardelia had called her 'fuck-me dress', with Hannibal's jacket pulled tightly around her shoulders.

Dr Lecter had called down for a bell boy to collect his bags and had been informed that one was on his way down from another room on the same floor, and so would be there shortly.

After replacing the phone he looked over to Clarice to find her scowling out the window. His eyes glittered as he approached her from behind, placing his hands on her tense shoulders; she turned her head slightly towards him as he leant down to kiss her neck. The sun had just risen and was casting an early morning glow across the sky, a few birds flew past, chirping happily, and yet all the beauty around her at the moment didn't help to lift her somber mood.

She didn't know whether she should voice her thoughts to Dr Lecter, would he laugh at her, perhaps ridicule her and confirm what it was she was worried about?

She was suddenly stood in front of him again in Baltimore, with him mocking her, calling her a rube and mimicking her accent; making sure the brutal truth hurt so he could savor her pain.

And then there was the Hannibal Lecter of last night, the one who had held her, whispering her name into her hair as he shuddered above her. The Hannibal Lecter who had literally made her scream his name in pleasure, then assured her she was beautiful, perfect and showing her he loved her without actually pronouncing it.

Surely that man wouldn't openly mock and ridicule her now? Not after what they had been through, not after last night… Or maybe he really had gotten just what he wanted from her?

She was brought from her reverie by his voice.

"We're not 10 hours in Clarice, are we already having a domestic?"

He felt her shoulders slump slightly as she exhaled.

"I don't – I feel like I'm your-… It's not just the dress…"

His fingers stroked her neck.

"I know Clarice."

She turned to face him, his hands still on her shoulders; he was waiting for her to ask him, he could see the uncertainty and vulnerability in her eyes. Clarice took a deep breath. Trying to suppress her fear and ask him - no tell him, what was bothering her and had been since their morning shower.

"I-"

There was a knock at the door and Hannibal's eyes flashed in slight irritation. He watched as Clarice withdrew from him emotionally again, he could almost hear the heavy door slam shut against him, refusing his entry.

"Come in." Hannibal said clearly, still facing Clarice, who would no longer meet his eye.

He heard the door open and watched as Clarice's eyes focused on the bell boy reflected in the window behind her.

"I'm here to collect your bags, sir."

"By the bed, thank you."

They both followed the bell boy out the door, Dr Lecter's hand in the middle of her back gently, guiding her.

Clarice shrugged herself out of Dr Lecter's jacket and handed it back to him, ignoring his raised eyebrow as they stepped into the elevator.

'_You want people to believe me to be your whore Dr Lecter?' _She thought to herself '_Why spoil it by covering your pretty little prostitute with the jacket?'_

Clarice could practically feel the bell boy's eyes wandering her body like sweaty hands, judging by Dr Lecter's clenched fists apparently, so could he. As the doors to the elevator shut, a hand that didn't belong to Dr Lecter touched her shoulder, Clarice turned to the owner of said hand, holding in her shudder of disgust.

"Yes?"

She asked watching as the bell boy's eyes darted to Dr Lecter who was still facing ahead. The boy licked his lips.

"I was… Erm just wondering… How much do you… you know…" Clarice gave him an expectant look, acting ignorant to his question. "cost?" he finished.

Clarice deliberately avoided looking at Dr Lecter as she turned a bit more towards the boy.

"I'm afraid you'd have to ask my pimp here." Her voice was filled with false sincerity and sarcasm as she looked over to Hannibal whose jaw twitched.

"No?" She said to him.

At his silence she turned to the young man feeling suitably pissed off at Dr Lecter and his silence, especially when she needed him to re-affirm his affection for her the most. She did something remarkably stupid, especially for her.

"I am afraid sir I am not available to 'service' you as a prostitute, you see I am an undercover FBI agent and this…" She turned her head slightly motioning to Dr Lecter. "Is one of the FBI's most wanted criminals."


	7. Chapter 7

**Quick note- I bought the movie script from Hannibal, signed by Anthony Hopkins, Julianne Moore and Gary Oldman. Needless to say it kicked me back into writing, though I much prefer the ending in the script to the one they used.**

**Chapter Seven.**

The bell boy stood stunned, his eyes sliding from Clarice to Dr Lecter in quick, dizzying motions. Clarice felt dread begin to settle in the pit of her stomach as she turned back to the bell boy; ready to try talking her way out of what she'd just said when loud laughter filled the elevator.

She turned, slightly stunned to find Hannibal Lecter; feared cannibal, clutching his stomach as he laughed at her.

"Oh dear, sorry my dear boy… It seems my wife has taken our role play a little too far. She always did get into it, if you catch my drift?" Clarice span quickly to face the bell boy, who also let out a forced chuckle.

"Wife?" He asked, clearly hoping he'd misheard.

Dr Lecter wrapped an arm around her midsection and pulled her close to his side.

"Indeed, it's a little game of ours. She hangs out in the hotel lobby; I pretend to inquire for a lady of the night fitting her description. It's all very complicated, but she's a writer and likes the dangerous appeal of forbidden love. How was it you described it my dear? Ah yes, the deep connection between hunter and prey, the FBI agent and the horrific criminal, beauty and the beast as it were. Keeps the marriage spicy, you see." Clarice spluttered incoherently as Dr Lecter winked at the bellboy, who had the grace to look ashamed.

"I'm deeply sorry if I offended you sir, inquiring about your wife and all…"

Dr Lecter waved a dismissive hand, smiling devilishly. "No harm done, I can see why you'd be tempted, I married her after all."

They stepped from the elevator with the bellboy following them, bags in hand. Dr Lecter turned to her, a steel hidden behind his polite smile. "Why don't you go and wait in the car dear? I'll check out and be right with you."

Clarice nodded numbly, not even thinking that she didn't know which car was his until one of the hotel employees pulled up in a sleek black jaguar, directly in front of the bellboy so he could load the bags into the boot.

She let the young man open the passenger door for her as she sat on the cool leather seat. "I apologise again ma'am, I hope I didn't cause you any offense."

She merely ignored him until he pushed the door shut, the sharp click snapping her from her daze as she blinked and looked around at the interior. Clarice snorted to herself and rolled her eyes; of course it would all be ridiculously expensive only the best for Hannibal Lecter, even if he was on the run.

She wasn't sat waiting long before the door opened and Dr Lecter seated himself gracefully in the driver's seat before snapping the door shut again; not even gracing her with a glance before starting the engine and pulling away from the hotel.

She didn't know how many minutes passed in silence, she couldn't quite decide if she was grateful for his sudden lack of verbosity or worried that he hadn't already reprimanded her for her behavior. So she decided she would sit in silence until he spoke, she'd probably done enough talking back in the elevator.

It turned out he wouldn't speak at all, she realised as they only stopped driving once they had reached a heavily wooded area and Clarice felt slightly grateful his MO didn't include killing women and dumping their bodies in the woods.

"Where are we Dr Lecter?"

He pursed his lips as he turned to look at her, his eyes flicking over her. "Back to formalities are we, Clarice?"

She blinked, she hadn't even realised she had called him by his title; it must have been her morbid thoughts that bought her to drop the forename she had so happily called out last night.

"Habit… Sorry." His look seemed to say that he knew she wasn't being entirely truthful, but he let it drop anyway.

"We are at one of my less permanent residences. I confess I haven't been here since before my 'capture', so I apologise in advance for the condition of the house."

She looked around at the tree's surrounding them, turning to him again to see him watching her; she asked 'What house? All I see are trees."

He opened the car door and exited, shutting it lightly as he moved around the car to open the door for her, extending his hand to help her out. She took it and followed him, not releasing his hand as she tried to calm her heartbeat.

Clarice sighed as she looked down at his stronger, tanned hand gripping her smaller, pale one; and she knew she had to apologise. She squeezed his hand to get him to look at her as they walked.

"I'm sorry, Hannibal."

He looked surprised for a moment as he observed her, still walking through the trees.

"It's quite alright Clarice, next time you're angry please don't go compromising the freedom I've worked to retain, hmm?" She nodded and looked at the ground as she tried navigating through branches and foliage in her high heels.

"Wait… Next time?" It had suddenly occurred to her what his words implied and she stopped, looking at his back before he turned with an eyebrow raised.

"You don't honestly think I'm going to leave you here now do you, Clarice? I told you last night that you would be mine." She frowned at him as the feminist within her ruffled her feathers at being treated like an object, as if he were reading her thoughts he chuckled.

"Oh Clarice, this is why I shall never get bored of you. When you aren't fighting with me, you are fighting with yourself… Perhaps you should just admit it."

"Admit what?" She huffed; slightly irritated that he was finding her turmoil amusing.

He leant towards her, his eyes flashing as they moved to her neck where one of many large purple bruises lay. "That even though the strong, independent woman within you objects to it; you enjoy being claimed by me. Physically, verbally and mentally; Clarice I made you mine many years ago it's only when I voice it you feel uncomfortable, like you should protest to being objectified."

She couldn't help the heat that shot through her as she registered the truth in his words, though she wasn't just going to accept them because he said so. "Alright then, if I can be objectified, so can you; you're mine too." She forced the words out, her eyes meeting his.

A low chuckle met her pronouncement as he brushed the hair from her eyes and leant forward, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Clarice… I have been yours since that day you returned to my cell having been defiled by Miggs."

She grimaced at the memory of running back to his cell, he had been shouting for her to come back… "Not one of my finest moments."

He took her hand and continued through the woods, the trees seemed to me thinning out.

"Would you have changed any of it?" he remained looking at the trees before him as she spoke.

"No, I wouldn't. You know one thing that bothered me was how it seemed like one minute you were flirting with me, the next making me want to slap you."

He smirked and glanced at her sideways. "Flirting with you? Clarice, I do not flirt; I charm."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, winking at me and licking your finger as you looked through my stupid questionnaire? Very charming."

He tilted his head towards her as he whispered to her; his voice liquid metallic. "It worked though, didn't it? I saw the look on your face; you can't lie to me Agent Starling."

She couldn't deny it, and he knew that. So instead she opted to remain silent, even though she noted the small smile on her face wouldn't dissipate.

"Here we are Clarice."

She looked up quickly; she had been watching her feet rather than their way toward the house; so was mildly surprised to look up and see a quaint house; probably the same size as the duplex she and Ardelia had lived in.

He unlocked and opened the door for her to precede him; she glanced up before entering to see a strange glint in his maroon eyes. She paused, knowing that look meant trouble.

He tilted his head at her, his gaze intense as he spoke; his voice reverting back to the sharp metallic hiss she was so accustomed to from Baltimore. She hadn't heard it in a long time.

"Will you walk into my parlor? said the Spider to the Fly,  
'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;  
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,  
And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there."

She laughed outright, shaking her head at him. "Children's poetry, Dr Lecter? Not Dante or Shakespeare?"

"I thought it befitting to the moment Agent Starling."

She knew his game, and decided to play along; pulling the words from her own fuzzy memory. "Oh no, no, said the little Fly, to ask me is in vain,  
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

He seemed pleased, laughing as he placed a hand at the small of her back and gently lead her through the door and shutting it behind him. He removed his jacket and placed it over an old coat rack before he turned to her, his eyes traversing her as she stood before him. He then extended a hand to her and she took It immediately, following him as they walked toward the stairs.

"Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.  
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,  
Within his little parlor - but she ne'er came out again!**"**

_**The poem belongs to Mary Howitt, not me. It's called 'The Spider and the Fly.' I've always thought it fit Hannibal and Clarice somehow. If you haven't, go and give it a full read.**_


End file.
